The Weight of the Path

Nathan awoke with a start, his head pounding as if a thousand hammers were driving into his skull. The world to him was grey, the air smelled faintly of disinfection. His body felt heavy, as though it had been broken and pieced back together. His muscles were tight, and there was a very unpleasant shortness in his chest—a sharp that had nothing to do with physical pain from the physical wounds he'd received.

He lay there briefly and tried to slow his breathing, but again, there was a problem. His pulse was erratic, and the air felt wrong—too thick, too oppressive. His fingers twitched involuntarily, and his eyes darted around, taking in the sterile white walls of a room he didn't recognize.

"You're awake."

Its sound penetrated the fog in his mind, and he swung around on hearing the voice, seeing her figure framed by the door, who stood before him. She was leaning against the frame, arms crossed, her usual cool demeanor replaced with something more cautious, even wary.

"What happened? Nathan asked, his voice hoarse, as if speaking took more effort than it should have.

"You collapsed," Seraphine said, her tone blunt. For about a day, you were unconscious after that fight. I wasn't sure if you were going to even wake up.

Nathan rubbed his forehead in search of a lift in the fog in his head. The only thing he could recall was the battle with those ghostly shapes in the monastery. He had overused the capacity of the Fragment and overexerted himself. However, in the shrapnel he emerges from the weight of its power is borne down into him, as if the Fragment is talking to him in a lowered voice, inviting him to take it in completely, to let go.

"How bad is it? Nathan asked, glancing at his hands, feeling the pulse of energy that still lingered there, despite the toll it had taken on his body.

Seraphine didn't answer immediately. She, however, went over to an empty table and picked up a small vial containing a slightly glowing liquid. "This is the only thing keeping you stable right now, she said, offering it to him. "It's not a cure, but it'll slow down the Fragment's influence on your body. You can't keep using it like you have, Nathan. The price is too high."

Nathan hesitated, staring at the vial in his hand. It sort of resembled a serum though, for all he knew, what was in it. Was it safe? Did it even matter? The Fragment was already consuming him, its energy seeping into every part of him, and he knew he was running out of time.

He took the contents of the vial in one gulp and felt a burning sensation as it moved down his esophagus. Their effects were almost instantaneous, a sensation of coolness travelling through his body and quieting the beating of his heart. The ache in his chest faded slightly, but it didn't take away the underlying exhaustion that gnawed at him.

I can't figure out how long I can keep this up," he said, "his voice tight. Each time that I use it, I feel. very not myself.

Seraphine's expression softened, just a little. "You're not the first to feel that way. The power of the Fragments is one not to be underestimated. It's a force that wants to consume you, Nathan. It doesn't care about your humanity. It cares about what it can get you to do.

Nathan looked at her, his eyes narrowed in thought. "And you know this… how?"

Seraphine waited a moment before she looked her and responded in a quieter voice. "I've seen what it can do. I've seen people lose themselves to it."

Nathan's interest was stimulated, accordingly, but before he could go further, he was interrupted by a sudden loud banging noise at the door. Seraphine immediately moved into a defensive stance, her hand on the gun at her side. Nathan's senses flared to life, every nerve on edge as the door creaked open.

A tall figure stepped into the room, his presence commanding and unmistakable. His dark eyes flashed mischief and another force within them. He was dressed in a long coat, his features sharp and angular, his face partially obscured by a hood.

"Nathan," the figure said, his voice smooth, almost predatory. "I see you've recovered. But I'm afraid your little respite is over."

Seraphine tensed, but Nathan didn't move. He was not up for fighting, right at this moment and he was not sure if he was prepared to face what this man represents.

Who are you" Nathan said, low but firm in his voice.

The man's smile widened, though it lacked any warmth. "My name is Korrin. And I'm here to collect what's mine."